


There is an Empty Balcony

by polares



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, JUST, M/M, Metaphors, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Linear Narrative, Pining Sakusa Kiyoomi, Sad Miya Atsumu, Sakusa Kiyoomi-centric, Unrequited Love, anyway, im sorry, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25910932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polares/pseuds/polares
Summary: Sakusa could fill an entire sea with his longing.Sakusa would cry under moonlight and stare at the empty space next to his.Sakusa would wait forever.He always would.The moon would always love the sun.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	There is an Empty Balcony

**Author's Note:**

> Hi dwgjsk um im still writing the third chapter of the formation of a constellation as well as writing somethign else so have this for now dsjhak anyway very sad i love hurt very cool
> 
> also, this is lightly based on from me, the moon by lav!!!

_“The heart_

_Is a burning shipwreck under four thousand layers of sea.”_

_Shinji Moon, the anatomy of being_

* * *

The sensation of skin to skin contact was a foreign concept to Sakusa Kiyoomi—but for once in his life, he found himself yearning to be touched by another.

He wanted to be kissed, to be held in arms, head tucked into the crook of _his_ neck, fingers intertwined as they melted into puddles in the dark, watching the windows fog up from heavy breaths while strong emotions poured outside the windows like hail.

Kiyoomi would yearn, and he cursed himself for falling in love with someone who would never love him back. He was damned to live life with an unrequited love that would always hold a place in his heart—which had slowly been turning green.

But he would never be the sun in the eyes of Atsumu Miya—and that was okay.

He knew love would always bring him back to the empty nights in his university dorm where he’d lay in bed unable to sleep because his head was full of want.

He didn’t know what it was that he wanted, but when he found it—he never wanted to let it go.

The pain of loving someone was the kind of nice burning sensation on the soles of one’s foot after stepping on hot concrete—or getting one’s gums injected with anesthetics before getting a cavity removed. It was the kind of pain that made people lose their minds and broke their hearts simultaneously—but it felt good to hurt. 

He would watch Atsumu at team dinners, his mouth opening to spill empty lies—and Sakusa wanted to yell _I know who you are, so please want me too,_ he never would though.

He would watch Atsumu staring longingly at the moon while they were both out on their balconies. Atsumu would always make a self-deprecating joke. Kiyoomi would always tell him he was worth it. Atsumu would smile awkwardly and say goodnight and walk away. That’s how it was meant to be. That’s how it would always be.

The sun would rise every day and Sakusa would be greeted by deaths inevitable kiss every morning and he’d sweat like a waterfall and sleep like a log and repeat his days as the feeling of longing ate at his bones like a parasite he could never get rid of.

He’d watch Atsumu at team dinners, watching him make eyes at Hinata and he’d swallow every bitter drop of his cocktail til’ he found himself drunk in his apartment staring at his ceiling, feeling the tears spill, a bath about to overflow.

And he’d see Atsumu’s worried eyes looking at him, his mouth morphing into an “o” as he asked Kiyoomi if he was okay and Kiyoomi could only nod and move past Atsumu before he turned to stone and shattered under the sun.

And he’d see the light go out in Atsumu’s eyes when Hinata announced that he and Tobio had been together for a couple of months. And Atsumu drank and drank and drank until he spilled beer on his suit and Kiyoomi walked him home to the apartment complex and Atsumu cried all over his lap.

And he’d run his fingers through Atsumu’s hair and tell him he would be okay.

He’d tell him there would always be someone that loves him, and one day Atsumu would find himself enchanted with love seeping into every corner of his life.

Atsumu would fall asleep on Kiyoomi’s bed and Kiyoomi would get no rest, crying on his balcony like a small child.

_When had he given himself away to love?_

He’d made Atsumu coffee that morning. He’d seen Atsumu break into tears on Kiyoomi’s kitchen counter and all Kiyoomi could do was stand there and let his own heart break.

He watched as the moon glow illuminated the empty balcony next to his.

He’d seen it every day and his heart was tired of standing outside and waiting.

But waiting is all he’d ever done. Waiting was all he’d ever do.

Even if he was waiting around for an inevitable nothing.


End file.
